


Tantrum and Teasing

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crack, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Strip Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-08 00:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14092680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: Oswald gets a new haircut, which he hopes will make Jim do the next move. Unfortunately, Jim is not always the great detective he's supposed to be.





	Tantrum and Teasing

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short crack fic inspired by [this pic of Oswald's new hairdo](http://justgotham.tumblr.com/post/171603592692/dannyjohncannon-gotham-robinlordtaylor-via), but then turned into this... :)) I don't know, you guys, I just don't. I blame genmitsu and faerydae-faerydae (thank you, girls!). Many thanks to Nekomata58919 for betaing this :)

Excitement courses through Oswald as he makes sure that every piece of cutlery is laid out straight on the table for his dinner with Jim. If anyone asked, he would deny that there's a special occasion; even Jim sounded surprised when Oswald told him about it.

 

_“Wear something nice, James.”_

 

_“Are we going somewhere fancy?”_

 

_Oswald smiled. “No, just a dinner at the manor. Thought we could indulge a bit in the middle of the week.”_

 

_“Alright, I’ll wear the suit I got from you,” Jim said, and although he didn't express it, Oswald knew he was curious._

 

_“See you later.”_

 

Oswald goes to a mirror, to check that his tie is not crooked. After arranging it, his eyes of course glide upwards to his new hairstyle. It’s something different to what he adopted when he opened the Iceberg Lounge. Now, he has a slanting fringe and also a purple lock — everyone praised it when he first had it done for the charity event.

 

Well, everyone except Jim, although granted, he was busy with capturing Pyg. Now, though, now there should be nothing preventing the detective from pouring his love over him.

 

Jim rings the doorbell not much later and Oswald goes to open it himself, since he sent the entire personnel home. He was feeling lucky. Even though they talked things through and reevaluated their relationship after capturing Pyg and arresting Sofia, Oswald is dazed by Jim’s handsomeness every time they meet, especially when the detective smiles at him like that.

 

“You made it finally,” Oswald says a bit breathlessly as Jim steps closer, his hand cupping Oswald’s face.

 

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” Jim presses a kiss to Oswald’s cheek, watching with satisfaction the blush spreading to Oswald’s neck.

 

Oswald almost flees to the living room, because he’s not sure he can withstand more. They agreed to take things slowly, so they haven’t done anything beyond heavy making out, but most often they have to stop each other before it goes further. Oswald often wishes they would just give in, but he’s nothing if not stubborn, so he won’t break their agreement.

 

Jim looks impressed by the candlelit dinner and sits with a curious, but soft expression. Oswald brings over the dinner and starts serving him vegetables.

 

“Olga’s not here?”

 

“No. Uh, I sent everyone home,” Oswald says and doesn’t look at Jim.

 

“Indeed?” Even without looking, Oswald can feel Jim’s grin. Maybe it was an amateur move, but he doesn’t care. Now it would be the perfect opportunity for Jim to remark on his new hairdo and then they could slowly progress to other activities.

 

But Jim doesn’t mention it; he asks about Oswald’s day, which of course, is very nice of him, though not what Oswald had in mind. He then asks Jim about the car chase he was involved in and listens carefully, but pointedly shakes his head so his hair bounces when Jim finishes his story.

 

“You know, there’s something different about you,” Jim says and Oswald quirks an eyebrow. He had almost given up on him. “But I can’t exactly put my finger on it.”

 

Oswald’s fork stops mid-air on the way to his mouth. How on earth was Jim Gordon the GCPD’s best detective?! For a moment, Oswald thinks that Jim is probably just joking, trying to get a rise out of him, but he’s not that kind of man. Jim’s eyes narrow, scrutinising his date.

 

“Really, Jim? Something different? That’s the best you have?”

 

“Oswald, I-”

 

“You got commendation for your detective work!”   
  
Jim just stares at him with the guiltiest expression, but it is painfully obvious that he still doesn’t get it why Oswald is upset.

 

“We’ve known each other for years!” Oswald exclaims. His cheeks become flushed as he gets up and swipes over the table with his hand, knocking off plates and glasses in the process.

 

“Wait, Oswald!”

 

“Leave me alone, Jim!” Oswald flees the room, wiping angry tears from the corner of his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Jim has been reading the same report for the ninth time, but he still can’t process a single word. His mind is fixed on the fight he and Oswald had the previous night. Or, more accurately, the fight Oswald instigated, for whatever reason. Jim must have offended him somehow, but he had no idea how. He tried calling Oswald numerous times, but of course every time they went to voicemail.

 

“Why the long face, Jimbo? Did Penguin dump your ass?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

Jim glares at Harvey; his partner can be annoyingly perceptive sometimes. It isn’t a break up, but Jim’s heart is still hurting. He’s tired of always messing up.

 

“You’re in a mood!”

 

Jim grunts, and luckily Harvey lets him be. They are working silently for an hour when Harvey puts his legs on the desk, watching the news in TV.

 

“I didn’t know your boyfriend got a new haircut!”

 

“What?”

 

“Penguin changed his hair.”

 

“Ah yeah,” Jim says as if it were no big deal, even though he’s suddenly realised the problem.

 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!_

 

Oh, he’s in deep trouble. Jim watches the screen, not even hearing one word of Oswald’s interview. How could he have not noticed? No wonder Oswald got so worked up; Jim could feel when he arrived that something might be happening later, and it totally would have if he had been more attentive. And now Oswald is upset with him. _Great_.

 

“Ya know,” Harvey starts, wiping off powdered sugar off his face while chewing on his doughnut. “You should just get him some flowers and chocolate. He’ll forgive you.”

 

Jim is staring ahead, an idea forming in his head. “Yeah.”

He gets up quickly, grabbing his coat on his way.

 

“Wow, partner, that urgent?”

 

Jim only throws an apologetic smile in his direction before he rushes outside.

 

* * *

 

 

It took some convincing, but finally Olga lets Jim in and even leaves him alone, not before telling Jim not to mess up or else… and she makes a quick move with her index finger at her throat. The detective swallows, and promises that things between him and Oswald will be fine again.

 

_The pièce de resistance is actually something that Oswald would only discover if Jim were to get to a certain state of undress. He’s not even certain whether it would work, but a stray remark made by Oswald a few weeks prior gave him the idea._

 

_Oswald went over to Jim’s place one evening to wind down after a difficult week. Jim was glad for the company, but as soon as he opened the apartment door he realised that perhaps they should have gone to the manor instead. There were clothes strewn around the place, old newspapers and unopened mail. He tried to pick up a few of the most offensive pieces while inviting Oswald to take a seat on his coach._

 

_The gangster told him not to bother, but Jim continued cleaning up the room at lightning speed, willing his embarrassment to go away._

 

_“Looking to order some new underwear, Jim?”_

 

_“What?”_

 

_Oswald held up a lingerie catalogue someone had stashed in his mailbox, quirking an eyebrow._

 

_“Haha! No, no way.”_

 

_“Shame. It would look good on you,” Oswald added lightly, smirking at Jim’s blush._

 

Jim shakes his head at the memory, hoping that his tactic will work. With a sense of false calm, he sets up everything and waits for Oswald’s arrival. Of course, the gangster is not too happy to see him there, but Jim almost begs him to let him stay and explain himself.

 

“You get two minutes, Detective Gordon,” Oswald says and takes a seat on the sofa.

 

Jim breathes in, then turns his back to Oswald as he starts the music on his phone. He moves his hips to the first accords of _Sexbomb_ , his ears instantly becoming red.

 

“James?” Oswald asks, surprised.

 

Jim doesn’t answer, just throws his tie in Oswald’s direction as he turns around. The gangster’s eyes darken as the offensive piece — which was bought by Oswald himself — lands right in front of his feet.

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m showing off my dancing skills.”

 

Oswald huffs and crosses his arms, but Jim can see the tiniest smile in the corner of his lips, so he’s encouraged to continue. When Tom Jones’s voice fills the room, Jim starts unbuttoning the first button on his shirt.

 

Oswald quirks his eyebrow, trying to seem disinterested, but Jim knows that gaze, so despite the huge awkwardness he feels, he carries on, swaying his hips a little. He knows he’s not a talented dancer, especially not when he’s alone on the ‘stage’ with only one member in the audience. He’d much prefer to have Oswald in his arms, but in order to do that he needs to please him first.

 

“Why are you doing this?” Oswald asks, strained, watching as Jim undoes the next button.

 

“To apologise. To make up for being an asshole the other day.”

 

“Hurry up then. You have some grovelling to do.”

 

“Yes, Mr. Cobblepot.” Jim couldn’t help but grin at the blush spreading on Oswald’s cheeks. “I’m sorry for not noticing your new haircut. Which is really nice.”

 

“You should be.”

 

“Let me make it up to you.”

 

Oswald watches with interest as Jim reveals more skin, posture relaxing and discreetly licking his lips.

 

When the chorus comes on, Jim knows he has to do more, even if he will look like an idiot, so he points at Oswald, hoping that the gesture and the sentiment he wants to express will placate the gangster.

 

_“Sexbomb, sexbomb, you're my sexbomb, sexbomb,_ _  
_ _You can give it to me when I need to come along._

_Sexbomb, sexbomb, you're my sexbomb,_ _  
_ _And baby you can turn me on.”_

 

Oswald can’t hide his smile anymore, not when Jim struggles with the last button of his shirt, hands shaking and cursing under his breath. “Come here,” he says, extending an olive branch to Jim.

 

The detective goes closer to Oswald, relief flooding him in waves as he watches Oswald easily unbutton it. “Thank you.”

 

The gangster looks up at him, pondering over things, eyes all serious. Jim feels like a contestant in one of those talent shows when the jury evaluates the performance they’ve just seen.

 

“You disappointed me yesterday, James.”

 

Jim hangs his head in shame. “I know. I’m an idiot.”

 

“But you can be very convincing.” Jim looks at Oswald with hope. “So you’re forgiven.”

 

Jim falls to his knees in relief, holding onto Oswald’s hands and kissing them fervently, pouring all his gratitude into the gesture. He’s denied his feelings for Oswald for so long, and after almost being blinded by Sofia’s manipulation he doesn’t want to ever lose Oswald again, especially not to such an insignificant thing.

 

Oswald leans forward and holds Jim close to his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Come here, silly.”

 

Jim gets up and straddles Oswald, heart light now that he was forgiven. He cups Oswald’s face, making sure to memorise all the details, the interesting mix of green and blue of his eyes, the freckles and of course, the new, purple lock of hair. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, full of awe, Oswald’s fingertips digging into his waist as their lips meet in a soft kiss.  


Oswald stroked Jim’s cheek, not saying a word, which made Jim smile. “No comments? Cat got your tongue?”

 

“No, I’m calculating how many of those kisses you owe me.”

 

Jim laughs, then takes off his shirt and throws it away. “Maybe this will also lower my debt?”

 

Oswald swallows hard, fingertips gently sliding downwards on Jim’s toned chest, making him break out in goosebumps. “Yeah, yes, we can talk about it.”

 

Their kisses evolve from soft to a bit more fervent, everything else becoming irrelevant. It feels like they’ve been doing it for hours, and yet they can’t wait to get more and more. Jim is completely engulfed by the feel of Oswald’s lips on his, the way his long fingers are exploring the bare skin of his abdomen until they stop around the hem of his trousers.

 

“What is that?” Oswald asks, lips still attached to Jim’s. He looks down at the black lace peeking through.

 

“Just… ah, a surprise for you,” Jim replies, nervously waiting for Oswald’s reaction.

 

It takes a few moments for the gangster to realise what exactly Jim is wearing. “Jim! You…” There’s no ending to that exclamation as Oswald grabs Jim by his shoulders and kisses him with even more enthusiasm, nimble fingers unzipping his trousers to get a better feel of the soft material.

 

Jim moans into the kiss as Oswald’s fingertips skirt around his erect cock.

 

“James,” Oswald purrs into his ear and Jim bucks into his hand, his arms tightening around Oswald’s neck.

 

“Perhaps we should take this into the bedroom.”

 

Jim nods wordlessly, Oswald teasing him further by sucking the drop of precome that leaked onto his index finger, grinning when Jim stares at him.

 

“Apparently I’m your sexbomb, so I have to live up to that title, don’t you think?”

 

Jim kisses Oswald in lieu of a response and drags him into the bedroom.

 

“Lie down,” Oswald orders Jim, who is happy to oblige him. After taking off Jim’s shoes and slacks, Oswald takes off his coat and then his own shoes, joining Jim on the bed, smiling down at him.

 

“See, Jim, this is where I wanted to end up the other day.”

 

“Let’s not waste more time then.”

 

Oswald lies over Jim, the detective’s arms holding him securely as they resume kissing, the air growing hot and heavy between them. Jim buckles upwards as Oswald kisses his jawline, the touch of his lips feather-light and tantalising. His neck is equally sensitive and he can feel Oswald smile as he slowly slides lower, leaving tingly kisses on his way.

 

He stops once he reaches Jim’s groin, fingers reverently glossing over the see-through material. Jim has never worn lingerie before, but seeing Oswald’s expression, he’s certain this won’t be the last time. Besides, it feels nice against his skin, even though it leaves him rather exposed.

 

“Honestly, Jim, I can’t believe you went and bought this. Not that I don’t appreciate it, on the contrary, I very much do.”

 

Jim feels Oswald’s breath on his cock and he wants more contact, something more physical, which he soon receives when Oswald leans in and mouths at his cock, tongue swiping over his sensitive head.

 

“Fuck! Oswald, please!”

 

The gangster smiles as he gently takes the hem of the lingerie in his mouth and tugs it down until the tip of Jim’s cock peeks out. Jim can barely breath, his fingers digging hard into the mattress as Oswald licks him teasingly. He wants to get lost in the feeling, in the warmth of Oswald’s mouth, but this whole thing was for Oswald, to pamper and satisfy him.

 

“Wait, wait, Oswald,” Jim pants, his hands tightening around Oswald’s arm. “This is great, absolutely fantastic, but it’s supposed to be about me making it up to you.”

 

“By all means, detective.”

 

Oswald gets up from between Jim’s legs and lies down, Jim deciding to ease him out of his trousers, since Oswald is straining. The gangster lifts his ass and Jim throws the garment on the floor. He thinks that normally, Oswald would reprimand him for it, but he doesn’t seem to care. He only seems slightly shy when Jim slides his silk underwear down.

 

Jim smiles at Oswald, hands stroking his smooth thighs. He presses a kiss to Oswald’s bad knee and progresses upwards until he reaches Oswald’s cock. The gangster is already writhing on the sheets, so Jim squeezes his narrow hips to draw his attention and make Oswald watch as Jim takes the tip of his cock into his mouth. He sucks gently, letting Oswald’s taste spread in his mouth.

 

“Oh god, Jim…”

 

Oswald spreads his legs wider to allow Jim better access, which he rewards with a kiss to his inner thigh before taking Oswald’s cock again, cheeks blushing when Oswald lets out loud moans. Oswald’s fingers tangle in Jim’s hair, tightening every time Jim bobs his head. He didn’t need to worry that his first time would be awkward and Oswald wouldn’t enjoy it, since the gangster is clearly very much into it, snapping his hips up impatiently.

 

Jim intertwines their fingers, holding Oswald’s waist with his other hand. He can feel that Oswald is close by the quiver in his thighs and his ever louder moans. He quickens his rhythm and Oswald tightens his grip on Jim’s hair as he fucks into his mouth. Jim keeps his eyes on Oswald, watching a bead of sweat trickle down on the side of his face and he has to rub his own erection against the bed, almost coming himself when Oswald screams and comes into his mouth. Jim swallows it all and licks Oswald’s cock clean, then lies beside Oswald when the man reaches out for him.

 

Jim listens with satisfaction to Oswald’s quick breathing, pressing soothing kisses to his heated cheeks, inhaling the mix of his expensive cologne and sweat. Oswald is so beautiful and Jim is so keyed up, he needs everything from him. He wants to feel Oswald’s lips against his and to feel his his lovely fingers explore his body, so he inadvertently buckles against Oswald’s side, seeking friction.

 

Oswald glances at him with amusement, scooting closer to Jim, fitting perfectly under his arm.

 

“I haven’t forgotten about you, James,” he whispers, kissing Jim while his hand rubs the front of the lingerie, making Jim ache even more.

 

After long, torturous seconds, Oswald finally slides his hand inside, tugging Jim’s cock firmly. Jim is helpless; he can’t even form coherent words, but it doesn’t matter because Oswald sucks his lower lip into his mouth, swallowing his cries as he comes all over Oswald’s hand and the underwear.

 

“Bad boy, ruining your lingerie like that,” Oswald whispers in Jim’s ear, even as he smears his come-covered fingers over the black lace. “I suppose I must get you new ones.”

 

Jim laughs as he draws Oswald in for a kiss. “I suppose you must.”


End file.
